Silent Illumination as Subtle Activity

By: Bob Zeglovitch

Today, we began our Practice Period on Silent Illumination: The Method of No Method at the Root of Soto Zen Practice. This practice—of just sitting without any particular object of meditation and without any sense of moving ourself toward a goal—is subtle. As a result, it can be easy to slide off and to forget the practice—to fall into a sleepy or trance state, to become entangled in and captured by thoughts and emotions, to become confused about our practice, or to reflexively crave particular states of mind and body.

While Silent Illumination practice is subtle, it does involve dynamic and alive activity within the relative stillness of the seated (or other) posture. I’d like to suggest approaching the practice as a verb, or series of verbs. This can help shift us away from becoming attached to particular states of mind (adjectives like calm, peaceful, concentrated, etc.) and remind us that there is a method of sorts within this “no method” practice. We are not without guidance in this empty field with no apparent handholds! Hopefully the following list of verbs will serve as a helpful touchstone from which to begin, teasing out different aspects of the practice. As you play with the practice, there may be times when one or the other of these subtle activities is most prominent, or feels like it needs the most attention. And, in some ways one might say that each of the verbs is encompassed within or expresses the others.

Sitting (or other posture): The beginning, middle and end. Taking our time to establish our posture, to find alignment and resilience. The whole body, expressing itself right now in this position, just as it is, right here in the middle of everything, moment to moment, upright and balanced, relatively still and yet dynamically alive and moving subtly with breath.

Relaxing: Noticing areas of tension and clinging and inviting the body (and mind) to relax its literal grip. Returning and repeating to this as things change and tension and clinging resurface and are known. Nothing to force here—we are not at war with the sensations of our body (see “Allowing” below).

Opening: Expanding awareness to take in body, and mind, and environment. Noticing when we have restricted our awareness to one of those domains and opening up to the others. It is like adjusting a camera lens to wide angle.

Allowing: No objects of our senses, including thoughts or emotions, are prohibited or have to be prevented. Thoughts and emotions will come and need not be resisted. Lay out the welcome mat to the whole works—is there ease in not picking and choosing? This gets to the essence of the practice, which is nonreactivity rather than what particular objects are arising in our awareness.

Investigating: A spirit of direct inquiry, beyond categories, names and analysis. Embodying the question, “what is this?” without expecting or conjuring up an answer. No need to speak the question, although a soft inner voice from time to time to keep the spark lit may help. The Chan master Hongzhi said: “With thoughts clear, sitting silently, wander into the circle of wonder.”

Experiencing: Being fully with whatever is in your mind and body, all the way from the moment it emerges to the moment it fades to nothing. Allowing the texture and particularity of the moment to be felt and known without labelling.

Releasing and Letting Go: The companion to allowing. We don’t have to block things or make them go away, but neither do we have to hang on or become entangled. Releasing and letting go is simply leaving the objects of our awareness to be as they are—dynamically appearing, staying for a while, and then vanishing without our having to do anything. This is the moment to moment enactment of non-craving and non-aversion.

Remembering: As with any practice, when we find ourselves getting lost, we remember that we are practicing this method of no-method, and return to sitting, relaxing, opening, allowing, investigating, experiencing and letting go. The is the functioning of mindfulness.

Over time, as familiarity with the various dimensions of the practice grows, one might collapse the list into fewer words, or even a single word. In Rebecca Li’s Illumination she emphasizes “nonreactivity.” She also quotes her teachers Simon Child and John Crook’s “mantra” of “let through, let be, let go.” One of our sangha members this morning expressed that “allowing” was the essence of the practice for him. Something simple like this can serve as our reminder to return to the “method.”

Aspects of Just Sitting: Introduction

By Bob Zeglovitch

I’ve begun working with some of the members of our sangha who are newer to Zen, giving some guidance on traditional Soto Zen meditation practice.  In connection with this effort, I’m going to write a series of posts to capture some of the unique elements of this style.  I’m hoping these posts will be of interest to others as well.  My goal is to highlight one aspect of the practice in each post, although it may turn out that certain aspects deserve more than one post.  I’ll do my best to keep the posts relatively short.  This practice is subtle and deep. I don’t pretend that my entries will be fully comprehensive or an “authoritative word” on the matter!  This posting is an introduction--I’ll move into the details of the practice in future entries. 

There are many varieties of Buddhist meditation.  It is perhaps an obvious point but it is worth saying anyway--they are not all the same practice!  The core meditation practice in Soto Zen is shikantaza, or “just sitting.”  This is sometimes referred to as a “methodless method.”  The classic Zen texts on just sitting contain much commentary, with a lot of beautiful poetic language, but not too much detail on how the practice should be done.  This is likely purposeful, because just sitting is not a step-by-step practice where you “get better.”  You might say that it is more direct, more “immediate”.  You are not concentrating or focusing on a particular object of your awareness, blocking out thoughts or the “outside world”, working with images, or reflecting on anything.  You are not engaging in thinking (and yet thoughts may come and go).  You are not trying to make anything happen or go away.  But you are not indifferent or drifting off.  You are “just sitting” with vital awareness of the totality of the ever unfolding present moment, together with the universe. 

Of course, most of us come to meditation for a reason, trying to improve or to get something for ourselves.  Our current cultural milieu supports this—I’m thinking in particular of the mindfulness movement and its emphasis on the clinical benefits of meditation.  And we invariably want to know, “am I doing it right?”  So the practice of just sitting presents us with some challenges and requires a major shift in perspective.  Further, while this is not a goal oriented practice, we take care to avoid complacency or an attitude of “anything goes.”  

For starters, you might just allow yourself to be curious about what it means to “just sit”.  In Dogen’s seminal text Fukanzazengi (Universal Instructions for Zazen), he states: “This zazen [meditation] I speak of is not learning meditation.  It is simply the dharma-gate of repose and bliss, the practice-realization of totally culminated enlightenment.”  Can you allow yourself to sit like this right now, without trying to figure the meaning out or trying to achieve anything and regardless of what feelings of deficiency or lack you may have?  Going forward we’ll try to flesh this out a bit. The complete text of Fukanzazengi is found on the Chants/Foundational Texts page of this website.  

A historical note:  The founder of the Soto lineage in Japan (referred to as Caodong in China, where it originated) was Eihei Dogen (1200-1253).  Dogen’s great awakening, realized while practicing just sitting, took place in China, where he was studying under Tiantong Rujing (1163-1228).  Another key figure in the lineage is Hongzhi Zhengue (1091-1157), a prior abbott at Rujing’s temple.  Hongzhi taught the practice of “silent illumination”, which is essentially another name for shikantaza/just sitting.  The just sitting practice has roots that go way back in the tradition of Chan (Zen) Buddhism in China.  Elements can be found in the writings of the eighth-century Chinese master Shitou Xiqiang (700-790) (the author of the Harmony of Difference and Equality) and his successor, Yaoshan Weiyan (745-820).  (The text of the Harmony of Difference and Equality is found on the Chants/Foundational Texts page of this website). And the origins go back even further.  We may return to some of these masters and their writing in future posts.